


Damned

by Traviosita9124



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hints of suicidal ideation, angsty but ends on a high(ish) note, post 5x22 the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 01:44:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14706753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/pseuds/Traviosita9124
Summary: Mornings are the worst.It’s when she wakes up and is forced to realize yet again that the warmth surrounding her isn’t her husband, his chest pressed against her back and arms wrapped around her, but rather the pillows she’d nested into the night before.





	Damned

**Author's Note:**

> Watched the season finale this morning and after having my heart ripped out just a little bit, this came tumbling out.

Mornings are the worst. 

 

It’s when she wakes up and is forced to realize yet again that the warmth surrounding her isn’t her husband, his chest pressed against her back and arms wrapped around her, but rather the pillows she’d nested into the night before. What’s worse is that the realization always plays out in the exact same way: a blissful moment where she wants nothing more than to turn and kiss him only to find that the sheets next to her are cold, a testament to her loss. It’s then she realizes that his cologne is too sharp, having been sprayed directly onto the bedding and not having a chance to meld with the distinct scent of his skin, that she can’t hear him snoring softly and she can’t feel his lips pressed to her shoulder. 

 

It’s always then that she breaks down, sobbing into the pillows until she finally feels spent. 

 

She takes to adding an extra half hour to her morning routine, giving herself time to have her cry and wash up before anyone can see. She’d hope that no one knows, but there are a few looks she’s caught from Daisy and Elena in particular that tell her the secret is an open one. Everyone knows that Jemma Simmons is teetering at the edge of something, despite her outward certainty that she’ll get her husband back, and is walking on eggshells around her. 

 

She tells herself it’s better this way. That really everything is fine. That if Fitz could hold it together to find her on Maveth and travel through time for her, she could do this now. She  _ will  _ do this now because a life without him isn’t an option. 

 

That’s another thing that scares her, the thought that she’ll have to live the rest of her years without him by her side. After years together, never being apart for too long, the concept is terrifyingly strange and Jemma does her best to not dwell on it. To banish the little voice telling her that she and Fitz really were cursed, damned, never meant to live a full life together. The times she does dwell though, she feels herself sinking into something dangerous. Something that makes her wonder if there’s any truth to the idea of an afterlife and that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if her heart actually did just give way to her grief if it meant she’d have the chance to see Fitz again. To tell him she loves him one more time and beg his forgiveness for not being there when he needed her most. 

 

What stops her is knowing that another Fitz is out there, somewhere, orbiting a planet or a star, just waiting to wake up and find her. It breaks her heart that he won’t remember their wedding or the story of their proposal or everything they went through to break the loop, but she reminds herself that there are upsides, too. She can show him the video Mack took of their wedding if he wants to see it. Can tell him about Deke and that in one timeline at least they had their family. And then they can do it all over again, together. Have a legal wedding with everyone they love and then run for Perthshire to live out the rest of their days in peace. 

 

That promise of a better tomorrow is ultimately what steels her resolve. As long as she knows Fitz is out there, waiting, she knows there’s a life for them. A cottage in Perthshire, perhaps with a dog. Definitely with children and a small, personal lab and workshop where they can putter and scheme and invent to their heart’s content. That’s the future they deserve, the future they’ll have if Jemma Simmons has anything to say about it. 

 

Death itself be damned. 


End file.
